Chapter 3

The noise was overpowering; everything just seemed so chaotic. Joel felt like the world was ending, and he was terrified. He’d known this demonstration would end badly. Why, oh why hadn’t he spoken against it more forcefully? Why hadn’t he been more adamant that they should do something on a smaller scale? Why hadn't he just refused to go? They had some crazy people aligned with their group now and he had just known that they couldn’t remain peaceful, they had to go to far. The scariest thing was that Nathan didn’t seem bothered by it. It was as if Nathan had expected this, he was completely unflustered. Police were coming in violently now, clad in riot gear, some of them were going under, but mostly it was the protesters. Joel didn’t want to see anyone hurt, he went to the aid of a policeman that had been separated from his squad and was being attacked from behind by three of Nathan’s followers. Joel got a taste of the man’s taser for his trouble. Not that he could blame the guy, he wasn’t likely to realise one of the protestors was trying to help him. Joel felt himself falling under a sea of bodies and was pretty sure this was going to be the end of the line. He didn’t see his life flash before his eyes, probably for the best really; there were many things in Joel’s life that he’d rather never see again. He simply felt himself losing his grip on life, drifting off into a deep sleep.

There was a bright light in front of him. Had Joel been a man of faith he might have believed he was ascending to heaven. However, Joel didn’t have much of a belief in any higher being and if there was an afterlife then he was pretty sure that nothing he’d done would warrant him a place anywhere other than in the fiery pits. Left with the only logical option, that he was still alive and there was an actual light, he tried to concentrate. As the light moved away from his eye he saw the shape that was holding the light, it was human and it appeared to be examining him. Straining to focus his eyes he couldn’t make out any features, but his senses persuaded him that it was a female. Everything was blurred and confusing. All he could really see were white shapes moving around him.

It was a lot quieter than before, he didn’t think he was still at the protest, it was hard to think straight, it seemed like his brain was wrapped in cotton wool, everything was fuzzy. There was a smell, what was that? Some sort of familiar, slightly scary smell, gradually he began to realise, it was the smell of a hospital. The shape over him was in white because she was a Dr or Nurse. He should feel comforted by this, knowing he was being looked after, but somehow being in a hospital just made him more anxious.

The woman seemed to realise he was coming too; she began to speak to him. Her voice was low, calming; his cynical side told him that she had perfected it in order to manipulate others. However, it still had its intended effect, it managed to soothe him slightly, allaying some of his fears. He couldn’t make sense of what she was saying yet, but he tried to respond, muttering something that probably made very little sense. He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say.

Turning, the woman adjusted some tubes, perhaps releasing more drugs into his bloodstream. Joel felt sleep coming over him like a heavy blanket. He tried to fight against it, not wanting to fall into that vulnerable state, but ultimately he lost the battle. His weariness combined with the injuries he’d sustained and the drugs they’d put in him combined to cause a very deep sleep.

Cassandra made a few final checks on the patient, relieved that he was sleeping now. He was in a bad state, but that didn’t guarantee her safety should he suddenly decide she was the enemy. She felt sympathy for his cause, but she couldn’t relate to the protestors. How could they expect people to treat them better when they did this? All the rally had achieved was to fuel the belief that down-towners are subhuman. Violence would only reap violence, she was sure of that.

Cassandra began to feel guilty for being so judgmental. Who was she to criticise the way these people acted? She had money, clothes, health, and a nice house. These people had practically nothing. They were forgotten, neglected, left to fester. So they resorted to drastic means. Who could blame them? They didn’t necessarily want to. They’d been kicked so much, was it that difficult to see why they had turned round and bitten back? It wouldn’t benefit them though. The only way to secure people’s help was to make them care about the plight of the non-transporters. People fighting and attacking the system would just confirm everyone’s worst fears, who would want to help then?

Continuing on, Cassandra checked the remaining patients in the room. Many had been trampled and crushed. She had seen all of the protestors that had been brought in now. One notable absence amongst them was Nathan. That was hardly surprising. Men like him weren’t the kind to sully their own hands. No doubt he had retreated to a nice safe vantage point once things had got ugly. He was the one that really angered her, using people like this. He played with people’s emotions, manipulating them like puppets in his show. Maybe she was wrong about him and he did care, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he would sell every last one of his followers out if it would benefit him.

It was then that Cassandra decided to really do something, as a start she would research Nathan. Find out every detail about him and how he came to end up in exile. It might take a while, but she was sure that her hacking skills would be up to the task and that it might provide some very interesting results.

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Chapter 2

Glancing around, Joel looked at where his distracted steps had brought him. It wasn’t surprising he guessed, never underestimate the power of habit. Well, since he was here, why not go and see Cal, he always provided an understanding ear.

“So, how’s it going, baby brother?” Joel used the term that never failed to get a rise out of him. Of course, as always recently, any response from Cal was muffled by six feet of densely packed earth, a fact which wasn’t to be taken for granted these days, it had cost Joel everything he had to ensure that his brother stayed out of the communal grave. Every last penny had gone on buying him his own plot and even a marker. He wouldn’t go as far as to call the marker a gravestone, that would imply stone for a start, this was simply a piece of hardboard with his name and dates written on. It’d be lucky to last the winter. As always, Joel traced his finger along the letters of Caleb’s name and the two dates, two dates that simply didn’t have enough years separating them. He had been little more than a kid and it was Joel’s job to look after him, to protect him, but how can you protect him from something choking him from the inside? How can you protect him when the poison is all around being breathed in every moment of the day? Still that didn’t stop the waves of guilt that washed over Joel, threatening to claim him completely.

Pulling himself together Joel rose from his position, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but the screams of protest from his muscles indicated that it had been too long. However bad he felt, he knew it would do Caleb no good to wallow in self pity and recriminations. The best thing he could do for Caleb was to help others like him, to ensure that no-one else lost their lives because of this poverty: To work to free his people. To that end, he should get back to headquarters and work with them. Nathan had power, influence, all the things Joel lacked. He could get things done; Joel had to help, for Caleb’s sake.

Nathan watched as Joel re-entered the building, he looked more confident than when he left. He’d tried to follow him once, to find out where he went when he disappeared like that, but Joel was born in this environment, he moved through it with an ease born of familiarity, weaving through back alleys and derelict buildings, he’d lost Nathan in seconds. Even other tails Nathan had sent after him had failed to keep him in their sights, so whatever Joel did remained private, a fact which bothered Nathan a lot more than he liked to let on. Knowledge was power, if he could just know a little more about Joel he would find it easier to control him. He suspected that on some level Joel realised this and was intentionally ditching any followers to maintain his secrecy. As usual Nathan questioned Joel as to where he’d been, trying to sound interested rather than interrogative, but Joel responded, as always with simply the word “Out” and retired to his bunk.

Taking a quick look at the time, Nathan decided he should get some sleep too and entered his room. He was of course the only member of the group to have a room to himself, the others bunked in cramped quarters which held as many bunks as was physically possible. No one challenged Nathan's need for his own room to give him a place for contemplation and planning, he had explained this to them in a way that had made them even feel guilty that he didn’t have more space.

As usual, waking in the group's headquarters wasn't exactly a pleasant experience. The whole structure was trembling from the proximity of the early morning lorries heading out on deliveries. People were shouting, dogs were barking and this morning, to make matters worse, there was torrential rain, which on the tin roof was horribly amplified and sounded like a bad steel band practising at full volume. Joel stumbled from his bed and dragged himself up to get ready for the day. As he passed Nathan he noted that as usual he looked immaculate and alert. No matter what time of the day, Nathan seemed ready for anything. A brief pang of jealousy tweaked at Joel, but he pushed it down. What good did envy do? It wasn't going to accomplish anything, in fact it would probably hinder the work of the group.

The next week passed fairly slowly, everything seemed pretty mundane, in fact many people were beginning to feel bored and restless, just wanting to do something, anything almost, just to have some activity and break from the tedium. As Nathan had anticipated he had swelled the ranks of the committed by a healthy number, they were getting to a point where they could really make people take notice of them. The problem with the increase in numbers was the increase in tension. These were not all the kind of people who played well with others and putting large numbers of people in small spaces like this was a sure-fire way to have conflict, add in a feeling of restlessness and chances are it will become violent. It was easy to see how wars started when you saw grown men brawling over something as simple as a nudged elbow.

Nathan was able to stop most of the fights with just a few words. He was fairly adept at turning their hostility towards each other outwards, deflecting it onto the commuters, increasing their level of hatred for them. So not only was it their fault that the conditions were bad, it became their fault that a roommate had stolen a blanket or that someone had eaten their piece of dessert.

Gradually the unit settled into a pattern where they lived and worked around each other without too much aggravation. Although it seemed likely that a lot of anger and aggression was being repressed, held onto until a time when it could be let free on the target of their hatred.

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